


The life of a head-boy

by Chris_Anthony



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, M/M, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-24 04:47:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20700179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chris_Anthony/pseuds/Chris_Anthony
Summary: No matter how hard it hurt, he couldn’t stop breathing despite how much he wanted to stop breathing because it wasn’t as simple as just falling asleep and never waking up.





	The life of a head-boy

Just like how it was no secret that Dumbledore favored Gryffindor, it was no secret that Professor Lupin cared for each and everyone one of his students as if they were his own.

Chris remembered walking through the doors of DADA to find that there was no professor and the only other sight of life was Cedric Diggory, a newly appointed Hufflepuff prefect who really had no business being in a seventh-year DADA class.

“Hello Cedric, is there anything you need?”

“Um, hi! I was wondering if you had any advice on how I can become Head Boy?”

Chris paused at his question, thinking back on what he did to scrap the title from the much more qualified Percy Weasley. Which in theory, was nothing. However, with the way those gray eyes looked up at him with such optimism he couldn’t find it within himself to tell Cedric that the choosing of Head Boys and Girls were almost completely random.

“I believe you should ask Percy Weasley for any questions regarding on how to become Head Boy. He was the best choice for the position originally, but in the end Dumbledore decided that I should fill in the position. Though I could never exactly figure out why.”

“Well, you were the one who helped heal Professor Lockhart last year. I overheard Madam Pomfrey talking about how he could’ve ended up in St. Mungo's Hospital if not for your spellwork. Last I heard Percy hadn’t done anything so…”

Chris stared at Cedric’s face, watching as he trailed off, as if trying to find the words to describe Chris' stupidity.

“Reckless?” Chris offered with a smile, thinking back to the events that took place last year.

Professor Snape was floored, deducting 150 points from Ravenclaw, upon finding out that in order to reverse the effects of Obliviate you had to render Professor Lockhart unconscious with Stupefy and then bring him right back with Rennervate.

“I was actually gonna say righteous. You certainly gave Gryffindor a run for their money. They aren’t the only house with a heroic streak anymore.”

“Suppose it’s time for us underrated houses to make a comeback then isn’t it? Those meatheads won’t stand a chance against Head Boy Cedric Diggory.”

Cedric grinned, jumping at the sound of the door opening. Chris glanced behind him to find Professor Lupin, the new DADA professor. His eyebrows were raised, as he spotted Chris and Cedric. Perhaps it was a bit compromising to be in an empty room with a much younger boy, but he couldn’t really find it in himself to care about the implications and instead shooed off Cedric with a goodbye.

“Hello, you are relatively early. Don’t you have a prior class?”

He glanced at the clock while Professor Lupin spoke, realizing that he and Cedric had really only been talking for about two minutes.

“It hasn’t really been that long sir. Cedric was only asking me for some advice.”

“Advice on what exactly, Gibson?”

“About his prefect duties.”

It technically wasn’t the truth, but it really wasn’t any of his business to spill. So instead he took a seat, already setting down his bag and placing his wand on the desk.

“And no, I don’t have a class before yours. I dropped Divinations a few days after school began. I have a free space now. It works out better for me either way though because it gives me more time to balance all my duties.”

“Ah, so you’re the Ravenclaw Head Boy that Flitwick was boasting about.”

He grinned sheepishly, settling for staring at the clock instead of looking into his eyes which held a strange dazed look.

“I certainly wish I was as witted and capable as you back in my time at Hogwarts. I spent most of my time cleaning after my friends,” Professor Lupin commented. A sudden crinkling sound caught Chris' attention and he looked down to find a chocolate bar. He couldn’t hide his confusion as he looked up at Professor Lupin.

“You look a little tired. Eat some chocolate, it’ll make you feel better.”

Turns out that chocolate really did make Chris feel better. He realized this sometime after that fateful day with Professor Lupin.

It was a bit funny the way anxiety worked for him. The first time he noticed that something was off was back in your first year when he misplaced his cauldron. In hindsight it wasn’t anything to be worried about but he still can’t get the helpless pain out of his chest when thinking back on it.

Chris fumbled about his dorm, thankful that his dorm mates already made their way into the common room. He gripped tightly onto his bed, pulling back the perfectly made sheets, searching frantically for any signs of the cauldron. Last thing he needed on his first day of potions was to show up without his cauldron like a fool. Professor Snape was going to yell at him in front of the whole class and humiliate him. It was already hard enough for him to make friends let alone being the laughing stock of Ravenclaw. Who’s ever heard of a stupid Ravenclaw?

Tossing his sheets back onto his bed he jogged down the stairs, his eyes focused on the ground. Hearing the chattering from your fellow Ravenclaws almost sent him into hysterical crying. Someone told a joke, he couldn’t quite hear what it was but it had most of the common room laughing and his heart dropped into his stomach at the thought of the sea of blue and green jeering at his idiocy. And so he walked out, eyes still focused on his feet shuffling and trying to be quite as possible.

It wasn’t long until he found himself in front of the restroom and he immediately ran into a stall, locking the door and sliding to the ground. Not caring about the stench of a public restroom or the dirtiness of the floor, he curled into fetal position letting out shaky sobs.

Why were am I so stupid? Do I even belong in Ravenclaw?

Even six years later Chris still felt a bit silly thinking back on how he locked himself in the boys bathroom over a lost cauldron. And that was only the first of many instances.

There had come a point throughout the seven years at Hogwarts that his anxiety had evolved from tearful episodes into paranoia. Which was where the chocolates came in, much thanks to Professor Lupin. Perhaps they were enchanted with Draught of Peace or something of the sorts? Chris wouldn’t put it past Professor Lupin, every time he looked at him it felt like he looking directly through him. Chris always left his class feeling vulnerable, watched.

Maybe it was anxiety, or was it paranoia? He weren’t sure when everyone had seemed to be out to get you. Maybe it was with the constant threat of Sirius Black that sent him over the edge. He haven’t been able to sleep right this year. Every hint of sound had him jumping, lurking around the corridors with his wand in reach. Every shuffle of his dorm mates had him investigating the beds and common room.

At some point the chocolates alone weren’t strong enough. Maybe it was paranoia, or was it just insomnia?

The earliest memory he had with his recently found addiction to coffee was when Dumbledore ordered Chris and Amy Frome, a Slytherin chosen for Head Girl, to take shifts watching over the underclassmen in the Great Hall.

Dumbledore walked out the Great Hall with Professor Snape in tow. Chris turned to Amy, motioning to an empty sleeping bag.

“You can go ahead and sleep. I can handle the first shift.”

Amy took him up on the offer and he watched as she slid off her green robes. Once he was positive she was asleep Chris slowly walked up and down the row of students. Peering slightly over the sleeping bags he made sure to check that everyone was asleep, but most importantly: safe and sound.

It was only few hours before Dobby popped in, making sure everything was alright.

“Is everythings alrigh’ for Head Boy Gibson?”

“Yes Dobby, I’m holding up just fine. But can you get me an iced almond milk latte with one teaspoon of sugar?”

Dobby nodded at him, mumbling various “yes sirs” that he couldn’t be bothered to understand. As Dobby clumsily stumbled out, he continued tip toeing around the Great Hall, watching all the sleeping faces. For the first time in months Chris wondered what it would be like to sleep as if nothing was wrong.

So it was about two month into the school year when Professor Lupin’s chocolates were no longer working and he turned to coffee.

That’s probably how Chris found himself in Professor Lupin’s office right now. There was always something about that man that was able to read Chris like an open book, and it definitely wasn’t his paranoia this time.

“Another iced latte? How many cups have you had today?”

It was roughly around dinner time, and Chris was ideally supposed to be patrolling the corridors to rush any lingering students to the Great Hall. Which means that this was probably his third cup. How much coffee until it’s deadly?

“Um…”

“You know for a Head Boy I would think that you’d take better care of yourself.”

“Can my title be taken for unhealthy eating habits?”

The blond-headed boy was only joking. But the second it came out of his mouth he instantly wanted to take it back. Wasn’t Head Boy supposed to be a model student? How much of a role model could he be when he only has three hours of sleep on a daily and can barely function without at least four cups of caffeine? Did he even really deserve to be Head Boy? Especially since Dumbledore only picked him because he somehow managed to save Professor Lockhart.

Glancing down at his badge he couldn’t help but think Percy was the one who should have a big red badge with “Head Boy” written in bold letters. Instead here he was with a blue badge he should’ve never had to begin with.

“Chris? Hey there, calm down,” he could hardly make out the words coming from Professor Lupin’s mouth over his heaving breathing.

That’s the funny thing about Chris' anxiety. One mention of iced lattes had his heart pounding , so much that it hurt to breath. Yet no matter how hard it hurt, he couldn’t stop breathing despite how much he wanted to stop breathing because it wasn’t as simple as just falling asleep and never waking up.

God he wish it was though. He has't slept in so long.

Chris' eyes were starting to burn and he closed them, trying to ignore the warm hand pressing down on his shoulders. Heneeded to rest his eyes a bit, just until they stopped burning. But the problem was: eventhough his eyes nothing stopped, not even the burning. His head was pounding, why does it hurt so much?

“Listen to my voice Chris. Can you hear me?”

Of course he could hear the professor, why wouldn’t he be able to?

“I need you to do as I say Chris, can you do that for me?”

“Please make everything stop,” Chris said, cringing at the cracks in his voice.

Warmth surrounded his body and his eyes finally opened , squinting at the harsh lights. Professor Lupin was crouching in front of him and his latte was an abandoned mess on the ground.

“I-I’m sorry Professor,” Chris mumbled, grabbing the chocolate that was held out in front of him.

“It’s not a problem, my boy. But I need you to get ready to stand up for Madam Pomfrey..”

For the first time since the emerald-eyed boy met him, he stared into Professor Lupin’s eyes. They were blue, a beautiful blue, and hazy. It looked as if he was about to cry.

Which in turn made Chris sob harder.

“It's not okay Professor. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t feel this way, it’s not normal to be so sad and tired and annoyed. Everyone’s tried to help me and I’m ruining Dumbledore’s trust in me as Head Boy and what would Cedric think seeing me like this? I’m not a good for him at all…..”

Everything was coming out at once, and his cheeks were aching from all the huffing and puffing. The blanket Professor Lupin wrapped around him was sliding off and the contrast of cool and warm made him want to hurl. Or maybe it was all that caffeine with no food. Chris couldn’t be bothered to figure out what it was, he just wanted to sleep.

“You’re not letting anyone down Chris. Never apologize for your mental health. Now come on and stand.”

He felt arms hook around his shoulders and pull him up. Chris let out a loud groan at the ache in his body.

The next 30 minutes or so were a blur. He could only vaguely remember Madam Pomfrey ushering him to the hospital wing. Peoples rushed passed the boy, none of which he could recognize over his squinted eyes.

Can’t they dim the lights a bit? This is a wizarding school.

All attempts to try to listen in on the chattering of adults were futile as a sharp ringing echoed in his head.

For the first time in months, Chris felt himself ready to slip away into a good night's sleep. And maybe hr would’ve. However, a hand shook him violently awake and he let out a groan in complaint.

“I don’t get how you’re all so concerned with me not sleeping yet won’t let me,” Chris snapped, ignoring the hoarseness in his voice and slapping away the hand that shook him awake.

“Mr. Gibson! That is no way for a Head Boy to be acting!”

Gibson couldn’t recognize who was yelling at him. It was probably just Flitwick or Snape or something. The next person however, he recognized to be Professor Lupin.

“You’ll be able to sleep in a little bit Chris. Remember when I asked if you can do as I say? I need you to open your eyes, just long enough to drink some Sleeping Draught that Professor Snape made for you. That way we can be sure you’ll sleep well.”

Chris wanted to bitch and whine to whoever would listen, but his mouth was too dry. It hurt to breath let alone cry.

Instead he settled for opening his eyes to glare at Professor Lupin. That plan was a bust though seeing as the bright lights made him whimper, much to the misery of his throat.

“Can you dim the lights a bit Flitwick? I don’t think it’s doing much good for Chris.”

In a matter of seconds everything got a few tints darker and Chris was finally able to fully open his eyes. Glancing slowly around the room he found Professor Flitwick at the foot of his bed peering at him, concerned.

“There will be no need for you to worry about your Head Boy duties for the time being. We have Percy Weasley filling in for you while you have time to recover.”

There everyone goes again with the “Head Boy this” and “Head Boy that.” Why couldn’t they just leave him alone?

“How are you feeling,” a gentle voice spoke from beside him. Chris glanced over at Professor Lupin, now fully aware of how puffy his face must’ve been. He probably looked like a mess.

“Tired,” he mumbled, looking around for Professor Snape and the Sleeping Draught.

Professor Lupin seemed to sense what Chris was doing and told him, “Professor Snape is making your Sleeping Draught as we speak. Madam Pomfrey sent off Dobby to get you some food and water.”

“No more iced lattes?”

Professor Lupin snickered a bit, “No more lattes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Read the original https://archiveofourown.org/works/15821166


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